


A Distraction

by RedHead



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Smut, but mostly smut as an excuse to consider character dynamics, or something, set after season 1, with introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 23:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16028096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/pseuds/RedHead
Summary: He doesn't really think it through, and he's not sure what's in it for Snart, but he needs the distraction and it suffices.





	A Distraction

 

 

It’s been two months since a black hole opened over Central City.

Barry’s still rebuilding – the city, himself, and as much as he can, the people he cares about. He’s doing that last one mostly by steering clear of them. He can barely look Iris in the eye and she’s grieving Eddie, and all he can think about is moving on from her. It hurts, but he’s got nothing to give right now, and nothing can change what happened.

Work isn’t enough to distract him. Lawyers from Wells’s estate know how to track him there and it leaves him agitated throughout each day, one eye on the door of his lab at all times. Rebuilding the city at night - all the places that were ripped to some type of shreds by the singularity isn’t enough to keep his mind from wandering – doesn’t cut it either. His thoughts track back their steady path to Eddie, to Iris. Being out as the Flash feels lonely as it ever could since he kicked Cisco and Caitlin out of the lab.

He shouldn’t, but he gives in one night and sets up dating profiles on more than a few platforms, Grindr included. No time like the present to try the casual thing. He makes it clear on his profiles he’s not looking for anything long term. He just needs something to take his mind off… everything else. No strings.

It takes a month to get the hang of it, figure out what to say. He discovers he has some luck with girls, more with guys. There’s some pretty a-okay hookups and thankfully, none of them know him well enough to tell how exhausted he is or how he’s so distant.

And then one night he opens his phone and there is a picture of Leonard Snart with a fake name attached. He almost can’t believe it, thinks someone is using a fake photo, they must be, and he swipes automatically. Snart swipes him too. Looking at the profile, it almost seems like it could really be him. That or someone has an elaborate sense of humor in pretending to be him.

He gets a message that just reads “dtf?” And he almost laughs, confused and still not sure it’s really Snart, so he responds:

“With you, I think that’s more likely to be ‘down to fight?’” Just to see what the guy will say.

“I’ll leave the frost if you leave your flashy suit out of this.”

He almost drops his phone. And then he glares because Snart just insulted his suit.

“How could I know it’s not a trap?”

He doesn’t think through that response until after it’s sent and then realizes it’ll seem like he’s actually considering having sex with Snart. Who can’t seriously be propositioning him, can he?

“And if it were? You really think you couldn’t deal with the heat?”

He actually does roll his eyes at the phone but the challenge gets to him, just a bit. Not that he’ll admit it.

“Thought hating heat was your thing?”

“Think I can handle it.”

And with a start, it clicks that it’s already decision time and he can’t believe this is a decision he is actually in a position to make. He looks at the conversation and isn’t sure how to interpret his own responses because it’s as though he was seriously considering it the whole time, and maybe part of him was. A hook-up where he doesn’t have to hide his powers. He’ll have to stay focused for a totally different reason, but…

“Whatever, sure.” He hesitates over the send button for an entire second, which feels like forever, but he hasn’t really got anything to lose and it’s been a long night out rebuilding so he could use a break, a distraction (anything). He sends quickly after, “just say where.”

Snart shoots him an address and Barry rushes off. He showers first, but it takes all of a minute even with waiting for the water to flow, and he grabs the necessities in case Snart doesn’t have any, but it’s under 3 minutes and he’s at the door. It only occurs to him after that that’ll look eager, but whatever, Snart’s really got no room to judge after being the one to proposition him.

And fuck, it really  _is_  him.

Snart smirks when he opens the door and Barry makes an obstinate expression but then he’s stepping aside to let Barry in. He wonders if they’re gonna talk about this, and if they do, what they’ll say, glances around fast to take in the shabby safehouse, the moth-eaten couch and odds and ends strewn about, old TV on mute and beer sitting out on the coffee table.

“Bedroom’s this way,” Snart says, and while Barry’s been looking around, he’s been looking at Barry.

He really doesn’t know why he’s okay with this but there is something nervous and tight in his stomach. At the very least, he’s glad they’re skipping the small talk. He follows Snart into the room and it’s about as rundown as the rest of the place but he’s not exactly picky.

Snart shrugs out of his jacket and Barry starts to work on the buttons of his own shirt.

“I guess you wanna top?” He needs that much clarification at least, but he’s not really fussed either way.

“If you’re willing to concede,” Snart returns in that droll voice of his. Barry nods and the other man keeps talking, “I keep my shirt on.”

“Sure.” And then, because he feels like he should say something else, offer something too, while Snart’s sitting on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes, “sometimes I vibrate.”

That gets Snart to actually look at him, and for a second the cool, impassive mask slips into something else, the quirk of an eyebrow and a bit of surprise.

Barry realizes with a start that Snart’s as nervous as him, in his own way. Probably didn’t expect Barry to actually say yes. He almost laughs. But he doesn’t, he just strips off his shirts and does a mental “fuck it” before coming to stand right in front of Snart.

They meet eyes for a moment and it’s tense because they haven’t touched yet, it’s still just apprehension. But Barry half-smiles and moves to straddle Snart, whose hands find their way to his hips and that first touch is electric. They both inhale. Barry’s hands are on his shoulders then and he leans down and takes Snart’s mouth because if they’re gonna fuck then he’s gonna kiss the other man at least.

Snart tastes like cheap beer. Barry’s not sure what he tastes like but it doesn’t matter, Snart’s leaning back and Barry’s following him.

If Snart is shy, his hands aren’t. They slide up and down Barry’s back and sides and then they grip his ass through his jeans and well, the lack of anonymity almost fades there, it almost becomes just like every other hook up. But it doesn’t. Because he moves his own hand to slide up the shirt Snart is wearing, just to touch, but in a second, Snart snatches his wrist.

It’s hard to forget who he’s with, then, with the little jolt of danger upping the ante.

“It stays on, I know,” Barry says too fast, but Snart takes the opportunity to roll them over anyway, to kiss his neck and Barry offers it, something like an apology for trying to touch. For being greedy. Snart’s hands work at his belt and Barry’s mimic them, working on Snart’s. And after that, he lets himself stop thinking, gives in to the distraction.

There is kissing, groping, exploring. “I don’t bruise,” Barry whispers when Snart’s being too gentle with the love bites on his neck, “not for long enough to matter.”

It gets the reaction he wants, and he lets out a moan at the pressure Snart’s willing to use a second after that, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “This more your speed?”

He gasps, arches, and almost laughs despite himself. “God, if you start to pun, I’m out of here.”

Snart chuckles and it’s all easier after that. Easier to breathe, like some weight between them is lifted, easier to be bold. They’re not pretending it’s anonymous, but they don’t care, either. 

And it’s not long before Snart’s more verbal again, too, like the same tension dissipated in him, and soon after Barry is naked and Snart is… as naked as he’s going to get, it seems, which amounts to a light and loose but long-sleeved shirt on and his pants pushed down around his thighs. Barry’s not about to ask, just mostly sticks to holding Snart’s arms and not much else until he’s being turned on his stomach and it no longer matters.

Turns out he didn’t need to bring the necessities; Snart already has some by the bed. Barry tries not to think about the implications of that even while Snart fingers him open and seems to read each breathy pant for what Barry likes best and when to go deeper, to add another digit. He urges Snart on with whispered curses and ignores the part of his brain that tells him he shouldn’t be so vulnerable in front of an enemy.

It’s not long before the fingers pull back and he hears, “you ready?”

He’d be surprised Snart asked except he’s not actually surprised at all. “Yeah, I’m good.” He tilts his hips for emphasis and watches Snart grab the condom wrapper and take it out, turns enough to catch a full view of just how thick Snart is when he’s fully hard, trying to decide if he’s excited or intimidated.

But then he’s facing forward again and Snart’s hands are on him and he’s being opened up and stretched out and he’s moaning and hissing just a little because it is definitely a stretch but he’s also slick as hell and it feels great so far. The almost pain next to the pleasure is exactly what he needs right now.

Snart doesn’t waste time, and he doesn’t tease. Barry is eternally grateful. It’s quickly turning into the best sex he’s had all year. It’s heavy and intense and Snart bites his shoulder and sucks his neck and then grips his hair and presses his face into the mattress to get a better angle and Barry’s half sure he’s just along for the ride at that point but he’s too into it to care. He feels incredibly full, especially when the angle lets Snart go deeper –  _fuck_  – and he’s moaning into the sheet each time Snart’s cock slides against his prostrate.

When Snart pulls his hair again he doesn’t have to restrain the need to vibrate and he does, just shakes for a second because it’s too much, and Snart swears and does it again, picks up the pace and Barry’s well beyond thought by this point, reduced to base instincts, loud.

Soon it’s too much, and he chokes on a moan when Snart’s hand finds his cock. His own hands have decided to be useless and clutch the sheets and God he wishes he had the wherewithal to do something with them but mostly he’s pleased because Snart’s hand is hot and calloused and rougher than his own and it only takes a few stokes before he’s spilling, swearing and clenching and vibrating because it’s that good.

Snart swears too and gets even faster, breathes heavier, groans and clutches Barry’s hips and slams into him so hard he thinks he might see stars he’s so sensitized it almost hurts and  _fuck_  – but then Snart’s orgasm must hit him because he makes a more satisfied groaning noise and thrusts brokenly before stilling, panting.

Barry swallows in air and feels sore and sated in a way not a single one of his other hook ups have managed, male or female. He’s too exhausted to read into it.

Snart pulls out and gets off the bed, deals with the condom while Barry rolls over and groans. His stomach is smeared with cum and he finds the bathroom in a half second to clean himself, makes it back to the room and tries not to think how much easier it is to be around someone who already knows about his powers.

“That’s handy.”

Barry laughs. He’s back in the room and sitting on the edge of the bed and Snart’s still just doing up his own pants.

“It has its perks,” he responds, feeling breezy. This should be awkward and weird, but it’s not like either of them had any illusions about what it was or what they were there for, even if he’s not in the mood to really think too deeply about what it was he was actually there for. It was a good enough distraction.

“Suppose you can’t pull that trick with everyone.”

Snart’s looking at him with all that focus again. But he’s got bare feet and it’s sort of ruining the image he typically strikes, at least for Barry. That, and they just had mind-blowing sex.

“Ha, no. Powers are a no-go with hook-ups.”

“A shame. A guy could get used to the vibrating.”

Barry doesn’t know why that’s the part that almost makes him embarrassed, but he finds himself smiling. “It’s a, uh, unique benefit, once I figured out how to control it.”

That earns him a snort and then they both finish sorting out their clothes. Barry’s neck is pleasantly full of not-yet-bruises that’ll be gone too soon and he savors the soreness, following Snart back down the hall to the living room.

It’s not all that awkward, but he still has to tamp down on the urge to kiss the other man on the way out. “Considering no one got killed or maimed or robbed, I’ll call this night a success,” he quips at the doorway for want of something to say.

Snart smirks and shrugs, “the night’s still young, Barry.”

It’s the first time either of them used the other’s name since he got there. He doesn’t know what to do with the information. That, and, “if 4am is young to you, you might need a new way to spend your time.”

Snart waves his hand, “details,” and Barry’s half sure he wasn’t supposed to call the other man on that.

“Save the robbing and maiming for next time, huh?” He offers, halfway out the door.

“Till next time, then.”

He nods and he’s gone after that, no need to stick around. But the words rattle around in his head anyway when he lets them, when he’s in bed later and thinking about the encounter, which he’s pretty sure was a reckless and dumb idea and he’s more than sure he’ll never ever tell his friends about. He’s still not sure what was in it for Snart, really, what made him send the first message, what made it worth the risk at all, but…. Till next time. It sounds like a promise.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Recently I've been going through old drabbles I had only posted to tumblr. This one might be 3 years old at this point? But I decided to let longer pieces have their own post here instead of being part of my drabbles collection, and I found after rereading it that I still like the beats it hits, so... here it is, I guess?


End file.
